


Oasis

by Impetus



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, Alpha! Keith, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Altean! Lance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Galra! Keith, M/M, Omega! Lotor, Slow Burn, love triangle?, she/her pronouns for pidge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 16:00:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9615188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impetus/pseuds/Impetus
Summary: When wars end, alliances are forged to keep the peace.Prince Lance of Altea is one side of this alliance.Galran Heir Apparent Lotor is the other.And Half Human Bastard-Prince Keith has no hand in this.





	

**Author's Note:**

> All the Altean Lance Fanart floating around has really gotten me on board.
> 
> Especially with Lotor/Lance.  
> Of which there will be plenty, while Keith shuffles his feet.

Lance loved balls. In his very important opinion, they were just about the only fun responsibility of being a prince. Allura was easily more capable and more willing to handle the stuffy political parts of diplomacy while Lance tended to utilize less...traditional tactics to improve relations with the other Altean nobility and the Human ambassadors that graced the castle halls. Usually, he’d have circled the ballroom at least twice by now, but this felt like less of a celebration and more like the end of an era. 

This occasion marked the end of the Galran war, a long and arduous gridlock started by the maltreatment of many Alteans and Humans living near the Galran border. Altea had always been a place for the sharing of knowledge and the investment of that shared knowledge to create more. Humans intermingled with Alteans every day and had a rich variety of culture and spirit. The Galra had always been the most withdrawn, militant, and ambitious.

Though Alteans lived in Human and Galran territory, they suffered less prejudice at the hands of the Galra and were usually let go to return to their homeland. Toward Humans, however, the Galra reserved a special contempt. Humans toiled, thriving under even the harshest of conditions and had hardy constitutions. The Galra had attempted to court humans with the idea of banding together and leaving the planet. Rule other worlds. Altea was not militant, but they were incredibly advanced. A wealth of resources bore great fruit in Altea. However, the Human territories each had their own specialties and each had fallen upon tough times at one point or another.

“Ruling other worlds would mean unending resources. Unending wealth.” The whispered words of temptation had gone unheeded, and so Humans were deemed weak and only worth commanding. Use their strong wills and bodies for something greater. But Humans would not go down so easily, nor would the Alteans who died alongside the Humans they loved. 

With Altean technology at the head of the resistance and the strength of Humankind’s united front, the Galran king Zarkon had finally been defeated. And good riddance, Lance thought, examining his nails with a sniff; he was sure the guy had been just about half dead anyway. He knew Zarkon’s skin was dead at least (really, the guy was an emperor. You’d think he had the budget for some moisturizer). Now that he was buried, the steps toward peace were being traversed and that was why Lance was currently hiding in the shadows at what could very well be the last Altean ball he would ever attend. 

Making a nonchalant scan of the room, Lance accidentally made eye contact with his sister who shot him a sad look when he couldn’t help but turn away. He didn’t even have to see her to know that she was staring at him in concern, heartbreak, and pity. Concern for what must happen now. Heartbreak for what the price of peace must be. Pity for him.

Having heard the news of a ball was just the cherry on top of an already long awaited day. He was almost tired, having been soaked in a torrent of different emotions. All of the soldiers had celebrated, and he had witnessed Pidge cry for the second time. 

***  
The Galra had taken a lot of human territory in the war, and her family had close ties to the Altean court, made all the more clear by her position as the apprentice to a senior advisor and scientist. The Holt domain was one of the first great losses. Pidge had holed herself up in her room for days, Hunk and Lance able to do nothing but wait for news. 

The disappearance of the Holts had been a turning point in Lance’s understanding of what the war meant. The Galra had always been conquerors. Humans were large in number, and their territory was vast, so what was some land? But the land quickly became people, and people quickly became slaves. But even still, to Lance, that still seemed far away. A painful idea to hear murmured around the dinner table and amongst the high court his family sat at the head of. The Holts had become political prisoners. Lance heard the meaning behind Pidge’s empty seat more than he heard her tears. So he had stood and screamed, rattling his lungs and the fine glass on the table. Hunk stood too, crying beside him. And Pidge laid curled up in her bed.

Altea and Humanity went to war with the Galra.

They fought against the militant species for five years.

Five years of watching his sister and his father make decisions that had them grieving in private. Five years of watching Pidge grow steadily, the last of the Holts. Five years of watching Hunk’s family struggle under the weight of supporting a kingdom at war. Five years of feeling like he could do nothing to help. 

But even without his help. Even through the pain, they won.

Pidge’s family was alive. 

So she cried. Her mouth usually tight in a smirk or filled with biting sarcasm was twisted as relief swelled and pushed away the tide of survivor’s guilt and desperation that had threatened to swallow her for years. Lance had become somewhat of a surrogate brother during her time spent in the palace. He held her as she rambled about all of the fears she’d kept under lock and key, how she had never imagined to find even Matt alive, much less the rest of the Holt family. Her eyes glinted with life when she brought up working and experimenting with Hunk again. 

“Think of all of the new technology we could develop! The farming equipment we’d been working on with the Altean ministry could re-establish the claimed lands easily!” She did not mention what they both knew to be true, that the Galra may have given up the land, but they did not give up all of the people who had lived there. “It will take time to negotiate their release, but people will be returning home. I want them to have something worth returning to.” Her excitement coursed through him, filling him with a vibrant electricity he had missed from her since the war had taken her family. And his heart swelled.

Hunk’s reaction to the ending of the war was tumultuous to say the least. As one of the most compassionate people Lance had ever had the privilege to know, Hunk feelings were made more obvious in his focus on others. He grieved through others. He celebrated through others. And upon the news of surrender, he did both. 

He grieved for Shay, a human girl who came from a humble mining region south of the Galran border. It had been subjected to Galran occupation, but her family had escaped and she now worked as a maid in the castle. Her brother, Rax, had gone missing after enlisting and there was no confirmation of his death or his survival. She still smiled all day, going about her duties. He hugged her when she accidentally knicked her finger and finally began to sob. He held her tightly to both give her comfort and to hide his own tears from her gaze. 

Hunk’s mothers worked in the castle. One was a chef and the other an engineer. He watched as their eyes that had been so full of anxiety and worry melted into purpose again. 

Kioni had been constantly rationing their stores and ingredients as the capital subsidized the outer reaches of Altea and even some of the Human territories. She still refused to compromise, coming up with delicious and nutritious meals for everyone in the castle. Hunk helped her when he had free time from his apprenticeship under his other mother, Hana. Seeing Kioni make a cake, still under ration (as the end of war did not mean the immediate healing of scars), with such joy and pride caused him to well up all over again. Having just wiped away the tears that stuck to his lashes from his encounters with both Shay and Kioni, he stepped into Hana’s work room to stop cold. 

Hana sat amongst small pieces of machinery, surrounded by circuits and drawings and pieces of metal that itched to be put together. Gone were the plans to build weaponry foisted upon her by the growing paranoia of a state at war. Gone was the weight of death and manufactured killing machines with her name stamped on the patent. Home, now, was the creator and giver that she was always meant to be. She noticed him mid-tinker. “Hunk, honey, come build with me.” He allowed her to take his hand and they both settled amongst the beginnings of a new era. “I wanted to build some small companions. There are many children who have lost their toys. Many children who have lost their families and their memories of happiness. I want to give them something to help them through that.” 

“I would love to build with you. So what’ve we got?” He scooped up a few scraps, eyeing them critically. “Just a few pieces of metal...some tweaking...and now it’s a lion!” Hana laughed and gathered some pieces before she held up her own small toy lion. The pair of metal cats sat quietly in their palms, waiting to be brought to life by programming he knew Pidge would be glad to do. So Hunk smiled, eyes wet for the third time that day as he and his mother both turned back to their work building up their miniature menagerie.

After about an hour of shared conversation about her home, Pidge shot him a smile and began making arrangements to visit the Holt domain. Lance took it upon himself then to periodically check if Hunk needed him, and in turn, bore witness to all of these incidents. The easement of Hunk’s burden lifting his spirits to greater heights as the light returned to the eyes of those around him. 

He took a moment to think about others lost. His friend Rolo, a somewhat mischievous thief that his father had taken in, worked as a spy during the war. He and his team comprised of himself, Nyma, and their robot companion Beezer had been the first real Altean casualty of war he had to face. At the time, Lance’s focus had been on Pidge, so he took the time to reflect on them now. His mourning took place in the small courtyard Allura liked to spend her free time in. The siblings had sought the comfort of each other as they rode through the court’s deep collective exhale. For the first time since he could remember, Allura was the one to cut through the silence.

“Lance, Father asked me to speak to you about something.” Of all the tones he expected her to have, worried wasn’t one of them.

“Yeah? What about?” He tried to keep his voice light, turning to look at her in full when she hesitated. Allura was not usually so reluctant to speak to him, especially when it came to the responsibilities father bestowed upon them. If anything, especially prior to the war, Lance usually wanted Allura to not talk about how he needed to pay more attention to the economy or how he had to be a “good example” or say things like “Lance for the love of quiznak, how dare you crash land one of the fleet ships!?” Topics of discussion with Allura were usually not interesting to him, but this seemed urgent, and even more unpleasant than their usual conversation. 

She couldn’t quite bring herself to continue, her hands wringing together as she tried to force the words from her lungs. “Lance, you know as well as I that although the war is over, it is not over.” He nodded in response, still not quite understanding where she was going with this tangibly awkward conversation. “And you know that we must make efforts of reparation as well as prevent such a tragedy of war to happen again, correct?” 

“Allura, what is it? What did father want you to speak to me about?” Lance stared at her, fingers subconsciously moving in imitation of his sister’s. She was usually concise with her words when talking about the state of the nation. Something was bothering her. His hands gripped tighter as he and Allura finally looked at each other in the eye. She was wearing the mask of strength she always wore when they heard of bad news. Her face was schooled into a neutral expression, but tears glossed over the surface of her gaze. “Allura, what’s wrong?” 

“Lance,” she said, firmly this time. “In order to negotiate a treaty with the Galra, especially as we do not know what ideals the new would-be King Lotor subscribes to, we had to agree to a show of good faith.” 

 

Well that was certainly anticlimactic. “Is that all?” Lance asked, laughing. He relaxed, wiry limbs releasing the tension that had been subtly building all day. “You scared me. What the heck, man?” When she didn’t reprimand him for his casual language and her brow did not unfurrow, he crossed his arms and raised a brow at her. “That isn’t all, is it?”

She slumped, the effort of holding herself together was too great. “I can’t do this. Come, let us go see father together.” Her hand softly gripped his, pulling him with her away from their peaceful hideout. 

Although they were both royalty, Lance always took care of himself in ways that even Allura did not. Her hands were soft but his were even softer. She told him so as they walked. 

In fact, she began to tell him many things she did not usually find pertinent to say. About how he always made her laugh, how she secretly adored how pointy his nose was, that she had always admired him having the guts to take off in that fleet ship. “I’d always wanted to go for a joyride and I still cannot believe that you managed to sneak onto one first!” As she babbled, he realised that she was waxing nostalgic. The only other times that this had happened were around the time of their mother’s death, when the war began, and when Coran had been called to advise out in the field. Big events. Life changing events. 

Events where things may be taken away.

Where people may be taken away.

Lance listened to her quietly as her voice began to shake, her soft hand trembling in his softer one. And not for the first time, all of the hours he spent caring for himself felt like something to be ashamed of. His hands were so soft. As though they were made to do nothing. 

They moved through the low lit hallways, the day having faded into the memory of the soldiers returning to their loved ones, the mourners clutching souvenirs, and the patient ones rereading ambiguous letters in front of their doors. Those who visited the castle always spoke about the arching ceilings and open air. The constant glow of technology painted the walls, ceilings, and inhabitants a calm blue. Even the plants kept around the castle curled upward toward the light, as though creating a bridge between the water that sustained them and what could be mistaken for the sky.

“Elegant,” trilled a stuffy looking Altean provincial noble. 

“Cool,” Pidge had said upon arrival.

“Free,” Shay whispered to Lance one day, when he and Hunk had taken her on a tour around the castle.

For the first time in his life, the light blue that he found comfort in began to suffocate him. Allura did not stop talking the entire trip to the throne room, a nervous habit that was the only hint of them being more similar in personality than one would expect from the royal siblings. 

The doors to the throne room loomed over them, crystals embedded into the surface to create a scene of waves cradling a rising sun, glinting mischievously as though he was seeing them for the first time. Guards stood at post on either side, the hallway and the service people standing at attention still bathed in that omnipresent hue, when Allura grabbed his free hand with her own and turned him toward her. 

“Lance, I hope you know that I love you,” she said softly, as though asking him for forgiveness instead of confirmation.

“Of course,” he murmured softly, pulling her into a hug before moving away. One last reassuring smile. “Now let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” 

Lance nodded toward the guards who tapped a security code, doors opening for him to stride in ahead of his sister, false confidence and stubborn pout worn like armor as the waves parted for him. 

“Dad! Allura said that we had to talk but then she got all blubbery and I demand to know what’s going on!” He said indignantly, crossing his arms and tapping his foot as he stared down the “Almighty King Alfor.” Alfor seemed to wilt at the sight of his son. Lance chose not to mention that he noticed his father’s eyes dart over to the empty throne to his left. After a moment of silence, he spoke again. “Well?”

“I’m sorry, but it is your duty,” Alfor spoke gravely. “Did Allura manage to tell you what is going to happen now?” Before Lance could respond, Allura walked in, rubbing at her eyes like she would when they were children getting scolded. Alfor nodded quietly to himself, “I see.”

“Please, father. Is this really something we have to do?” Allura pleaded. Lance did not look away from the tired visage of their leader as he stood from his throne and moved toward them. Alfor’s shoes clacked crisply against the smooth floors, coming down a set of unadorned steps to stand face to face with his progeny. The immaculate state of the room felt empty in the absence of his usually large and somewhat imposing presence. Attendants lingered and shot each other uncomfortable looks, despite this, none of the royal family moved for a long moment. 

The moment passed when Alfor drew himself to his full height. “Lance, as the second child in the royal family, you are to be married to the Galran heir. He is ascending to the throne in the wake of the death of his father. We will not have any more war and we cannot risk that the mentality of a dead conqueror pass on to this generation.” As the second child, Lance thought, biting his lip at the implication. Bearing no necessity. 

The protests that Alfor and Allura both expected laid dormant in Lance’s chest, burning away as quickly as they were formed. His eyes darted between them both. Why was he being sent away? Was this the only good he was to them? To the kingdom? As an offering? A sacrifice. 

“And if I refuse?” Lance asked, eyes defiant.

The king’s voice boomed, bouncing off the tall ceilings that Shay had so admired. “Then all treaties may be voided. Only their king was defeated, and the Galrans are restless. Their loyalty is as strong as they are, and should the new king desire, you know as well as I that they have no qualms going to war again.” 

No qualms taking away Pidge’s family. No problems holding Hunk and his family in a stasis of destruction instead of creation. No hesitation making Shay cry. No remorse when a small family turns into a group of homeless thieves reborn with no other purpose than to fight and run. 

Allura’s voice broke through his thoughts. “I will do it! I cannot put Lance through this,” she sobbed, shoulders trembling. “Please, let me.”

“No.” He looked up with eyes full of resolution. If it only took something so small, his life, his future, then so be it. “I accept. You are needed here. It is the least I can do for you. For our country.” Lance reached out to her, “I have always watched from the wings as you and father did what you could to keep our nation afloat. Let me do something for you.” Allura cried more fervently, as though she expected more resistance, as if she expected him to fight the battle she knew could not be won. Alfor continued to sink inward in resignation. 

Lance would go. He smiled as he welcomed his family into a solemn embrace.

***

So here he was. Balls were always fun, and this one was probably an effort to cushion the blow. He appreciated the effort, but he felt just as sad as Allura looked. It took all of his strength to just keep smiling. The usual grin he wore was admittedly stiff, but he held strong, even when Hunk and Pidge questioned him.

“Dude, you haven’t even hit on anyone and you haven’t had one sip of juniberry juice.” Pidge teased, her rare chipper mood taking away the typical bite of her words. “What’s going on?”

Hunk nudged him softly. “C’mon Lance, smile! Mama made some of your favourite cake and mom and I made some cool new toys! Pidge programmed them and they’re gonna be handed out tomorrow!” They both shot each other looks, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s a celebration!”

Lance finally cracked a tentative half-smile, moved by their earnest and genuine friendship. “I love you guys,” he laughed, shooting them both his signature sparkling grin before drawing himself up to lean against a pillar adorned with ribbons made of crystal set in white marble. Lance ignored the doubt still lingering among them. 

He took a moment to take in his environment. The people were all so happy, mingling amongst each other in the open palace ballroom. His heart swelled as he thought about how he could do something to ensure this for the future. He could do something to bring happiness and peace to his people. For the first time, Lance truly understood the purpose that Allura and his father always spoke about. His responsibility, though still a burden, filled him with privilege. 

“You okay, Lance?” Pidge asked. Suddenly, she and Lance were both swept up into a tight hug. 

“You know we love you too, right?” Hunk murmured, sniffling as his nose began to run. The stress of the day forced its way out of his lungs as he sobbed into his friends’ chests.

“Not the jacket! It’s my ceremonial one!” Lance squawked. The trio laughed, cutting off when suddenly the room fell into a hush as Alfor took the stand in front of the throne. Lance watched as Alfor nodded toward him grimly. 

Lance paused, heart fluttering in his chest as he acknowledged his cue. Taking a deep breath, he moved, heels clicking. 

Alfor greeted him with quivering lips and pulled Lance into a warm hug. After a long, intimate moment, they both stepped back. 

“As you all know, the war with the Galra has ended.” Applause rose and Lance could spot Pidge and Hunk, whistling and cheering. “There is much work to be done. Many have been lost, never to return to us. The scars of war run deep, like cracks in stone, but water can smooth even the deepest crevices. Our journey is long and arduous, but we are already taking the first steps to ensure a peaceful future. Lance?” Alfor stepped back, allowing Lance to take the full attention of the ballroom. 

“It is my honor as your prince, to help move our world forward toward peace. In three day’s time, I will travel to the country of the Galra and marry into their royal family,” at this, surprise rippled through the crowd. “There, I will do whatever I can to build an alliance of respect. I will no longer be your prince, but I will always do my best for our people. Thank you all, for trusting me with such a responsibility.” For a moment there was nothing, then suddenly he heard a loud roar of cheers. 

“We love you, Lance!” Hunk yelled, voice cutting through the tears streaming down his face.

“And you bet your pampered ass that we’re coming with you!” Pidge hollered next.

The stunned silence turned into laughter, and it bubbled out of Lance’s throat as the music climbed back into full swing. In that moment, in the farewell, Lance couldn’t be more grateful for the love of his people. 

 

***

“I’m so excited, don’t you want to know why, dear brother?” Lotor’s eyes danced with amusement as Keith stared at him dispassionately. The half-breed ignored the badgering, letting out a couple low grunts as he went through a series of step sequences. “Come on! Ask me! As your new leader, I command that you ask me!” Lotor chirped insistently. Keith cringed at the sound and finally cracked.

“Fine, what is it?” He growled. Keith’s slave may hold the title of champion, but Lotor was quickly becoming the champion of getting on Keith’s nerves.

Lotor tutted. “Ah, ah, none of that Alpha tone, little brother. Ask nicely.”

“What are you so excited for?” Keith asked, voice bored as he tried to focus on continuing the exercises Lotor had nonchalantly interrupted. He blinked the sweat out of his eyes and tried to tune out the sparring around him...and his noisy half brother beside him. 

“My future husband will be arriving tomorrow! I’ve never met any of the Altean royalty, but I’ve heard that they’re easy on the eyes,” Lotor drawled. He leaned in close, invading Keith’s personal space and breathed into his ear. “Do try to get along with him, little brother.”

Keith scoffed and pushed Lotor away, jerking his shoulder to signal for his bodyguard and friend to follow him. He stalked off the practice mat, clambering down to grab the red towel he kept by his water. The rest of the room paused in their activities, the light flooding through the open windows bearing down on all of the straight shouldered and muscled fighters waiting for the prince to leave. 

At the door, Keith paused and nodded to all of the others in the hall. Those who practiced with him were some of the few Galra to actually care for and respect him, and he always made a point to show them the same decency. As the noise and movement picked back up, Shiro hopped off of his own mat, sliding off the raised platform and trailed after him, bowing to Lotor on his way out of the practice gym. Lotor grinned impishly in return, though his lips seemed tense. The motley pair of slave and future king both looked out the wide door leading into the open air practice fields, taking in Keith’s ruffled hackles as he waited for Shiro to join him. 

After greeting the sun, Shiro stretched, falling in step next to his liege. “He does seem to be trying to get closer to you,” he tried gently.

“He’s been off at the royal countryside manse since I was born. After I was born, the Empress got all pissy and said she needed keep him pure and far away from me,” Keith hissed, his voice slightly tinged with what could be regret. “No point in spending money on giving me a home of my own when I can just live here and fight for the glory of our great nation.” Shiro sighed, knowing from Keith’s tone that now wasn’t the time. “In any case,” Keith continued, ignoring the feigned respect given to him by the new soldiers practicing in the courtyard. “I just don’t want his new boyfriend bothering me. That’s all I care about”

___________________________

Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think!

This story was directly inspired from a tweet by @banhba0  
Kioni and Hana (Hunk's moms) are headcanoned and developed by Cheshireree!  
I hope you enjoyed!  
Until next time!


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